


Can't have this.

by Houseofmalfoy



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F, Mentioned Lucius Malfoy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-15
Updated: 2019-10-15
Packaged: 2020-12-16 20:49:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21042569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Houseofmalfoy/pseuds/Houseofmalfoy
Summary: It's easy to let themselves believe they can, but they'll never have this.





	Can't have this.

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the hp rarepair bingo 2019, for the musical prompt 'False God' by Taylor Swift

_ We were crazy to think _

_ Crazy to think that this could work _

_ // _

_ But we might just get away with it, religion's in your lips. _

_ Even if it's a false god, we'd still worship. _

_ We might just get away with it, the altar is my hips. _

_ Even if it's a false god, we'd still worship this love. _

They can’t have this.

Lily’s gorgeous auburn hair is tangled between Narcissa’s fingers, their kiss slow and too tender for the situation they’ve found themselves in. Nipping at each other’s lips, chuckling in between movements, as if they have all the time in the world — as if they’ll have many more opportunities to do just this. 

It was naive to think this could’ve worked at all. Narcissa knows it, she’s certain Lily does too, but neither of them says it out loud. It feels peaceful now, with Lily’s hand cupping her face and the way she twists and laughs when Narcissa — not even entirely on purpose — tickles her waist.

The ‘Stop it!’ that she brings out in a whispered laugh makes them both giggle. Lily’s the only one who can make her do that. 

Maybe they can have this?

She wonders it sometimes; whether she could be like Andromeda, like Sirius.

It comes to mind when their kisses heat up and Lily’s chuckles turn meaner, a wicked smirk on her mouth. Narcissa’s bottom lip is tugged and bitten and her nails begin to dig into the other witch’s hips.

The way Lily kisses her, the delightful way in which her tongue finds Narcissa’s, how she deepens the kiss with such intensity that Narcissa might very well lose it right there and then, it’d be enough to bring her to her knees if she wasn’t held up by Lily’s hands.

It’s worship, really. Lily’s devotion to her, as if for just these stolen moments Narcissa is her entire world. She positively revels in that feeling, and it leads to the idea that maybe, just maybe, they can do this.

Stolen moments that could easily be the death of either of them, but when Narcissa’s being treated as if she alone holds the powers of the universe, as if she and Lily are all that matters… It’s devastatingly easy to slip into the mindset that it’s possible. Maybe they have a shot.

For now they have this.

Narcissa’s thoughts of possibilities that aren’t possibilities at all, that are nothing but wishful thinking in the worst and dangerous of ways, are drowned out.

They have these stolen moments where Lily’s lips and teeth, trail Narcissa’s hips as if she’s the goddess herself. Her beautiful auburn hair once more clenched in Narcissa’s fists when her face settles between the blonde’s thighs.

They have this, for these small periods of time when all that matters is Lily’s admirable skill, the bite mark left on her inner thigh and the moans it draws from Narcissa’s mouth. 

They have memories in the shape of scratches down Lily’s shoulder where Narcissa’s nails dug into her skin and bruises left on the blonde’s hips — memories of things they have for just this moment but will never, ever, have forever.

Promises they make in whispered exclamations, driven by nothing but pleasure and the warped idea it gives that this is possible at all. They’re always broken as soon as it’s over, but made all over again, each time they meet. 

Cruel, almost, isn’t it? That doesn’t matter; not when Narcissa throws her head back with parted lips and the entire rest of the world has become irrelevant for those few moments.

They can’t have this.

It’s always over too soon. 

It’s over and then all that’s left is the imprints of Lily’s teeth in her skin, the mark of her lips so starkly contrasted against Narcissa’s porcelain neck. Narcissa sinks to the floor with tears in her eyes.

There’s only the realisation that this can never be more than stolen moments and wishful thinking and a wedding ring around her finger that ties her to a manor Lily will never set foot in. 

Her husband isn’t the problem, he’s perfectly alright and perfectly acceptable and he treats her perfectly fine. He’s not Lily, though, and that’s where the problem lies isn’t it?

Lucius is not the heartbreakingly beautiful witch she’s fallen in love with despite everything in her body and everything in her world screaming at her how idiotic it is to do so; that’s not his fault, either, Narcissa supposes.

Lily leaves and Narcissa’s left with a tear running down her cheek as she recalls every word; every smile; every touch that the mesmerizing witch has left her with. 

They never know if this time will be the last time. It should be, it should have been the last time months ago, if they’d possessed any sense whatsoever, but it seems all common sense is thrown away when met with lively green eyes and tender lips. If that’s not love, what is?

They won’t have this.

So Narcissa returns to a manor that’s become her home and that she, truthfully, bears no ill will towards. She returns to a marriage that’s so perfectly appropriate that it bores her, even if Lucius is handsome and good and everything she should want in a man.

She returns home and thinks of the way Lily Evans has become her world, her religion, and how daft that is of her. 

Narcissa sits in her perfectly decorated bedroom staring out at her perfectly well-kept gardens and only thinks of misguided what ifs and naive wishful thinking.

‘Maybe they can have this?’ She’d laugh at her own foolishness if it didn’t hurt so much. 

They can’t have this. 

There was never a maybe.

There was a now, and if she’s (un)lucky there will be another now. 

But they can’t have this. They’ll never have this.

Lily’s worship and her heavenly touches and the way the world ceases to exist when it’s just the two of them won’t change that. 

They’ll never have this.

They can’t.

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed it, please think of leaving kudos or a comment!


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